


five times draco shocked harry and one time harry shocked him right back

by bucksexual



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Drarry, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Probably ooc, Rape/Non-con Elements, and he doesn’t want to, but it’s not a big thing, the rape/ non con tag is there bc ginny kisses him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 00:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucksexual/pseuds/bucksexual
Summary: The war changed everybody,  Harry included. But when he comes back to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year, he's shocked to find out  just how much  Malfoy has revised.orIt's a 5 + 1 Things fic inspired by  that one Tumblrr post by parseltonquinq





	five times draco shocked harry and one time harry shocked him right back

One

 

They’re in Potions, which is where most things seem to happen, and Harry is desperately trying to actually pay attention this time around. It’s Eighth Year, after all; they’ve come back in order to get the education they missed while fighting Voldemort and being tortured, though Harry did less of the being tortured and more of the wandering around through a forest with Ron and Hermione. 

 

You’d hope that after all of that fighting and death, they’d do some restaffing. Sadly, no. Much to Harry’s disappointment, Snape’s ghost had come back to be a pain in the ass from beyond the grave. He’s floating around Malfoy’s desk, a disappointed look on his _literally_ ghostly pale face.

 

“Draco, do at least  _try_. If you ever want to be an Auror, you’re going to have to pass this class.” He says, ignoring everybody else in the room, as if Malfoy is the most important person there, which is definitely  _not_ true. 

 

“I am trying,” Malfoy sneers, “It’s just that I’m not going to be the perfect Slytherin suck-up this year. I’m allowed to make mistakes.” Harry eyebrows raise at that.  _Malfoy_ and  _mistakes_ were not usually things associated with each other. 

 

Snape apparently has the same reaction. “Listen, just because it’s your last year and you no longer have to deal with Dark Lord...things,” Malfoy rolls his eyes, “Does not mean you can slack off!” He exclaims.

 

Malfoy throws a little sarcastic smile, “Oh, you’re right,” He says, a look of mock sentiment on his face, “I should work harder. I mean, Merlin forbid that I actually live my life instead of being a stupid slave to my studies.” He glares at Snape before pointedly looking back down at his potion, which didn’t even look bad. Compared to Harry’s it was perfect. But Hermione’s was admittedly a much more appealing color (and smell).

 

“Draco! You shall not use the tone with me. Pull yourself together,” Snape snaps, his ghostly hand coming down to whack Draco in the back of the head. Snape must not be very used to the fact that yes, he’s a fucking ghost, because he looks shocked when his hand goes right through Draco’s neck.

 

“Fuck you.” The blond spits, before he grabs his cauldron and his potions book and lifts himself off of the chair. He gives Snape one more glare before he storms away and plops himself down in the empty seat next to Harry.

 

Snape’s wearing an expression to match Harry’s, pure shock. The professor stands there for a moment before he floats back to his desk, not speaking other than to scold people for the rest of class.

 

Harry lifts his head up to gawk at Malfoy. “Close your mouth,” The Slytherin says, “You look like a fish.”

 

Harry’s face heats up and he snaps his mouth shut before looking down at his cauldron.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Two_

 

 

It’s about a week later when it happens. It’s lunch, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry are sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, a spot reserved for the other Eighth Years. His friends are talking about some stupid Quidditch match they played last night, but Harry’s too busy stabbing his chicken and wondering why he suddenly thinks Malfoy’s robes are very  _very_ complimenting to engage.

 

He only perks up when he hears Malfoy’s name, something he won’t admit to doing if asked. “I overheard Snape talking to McGonagall, they think he’s snapped.” Ginny says, smirking as she leans in closer to the group. She’s the only person who is brave enough to sit with the Eighth Years, everybody else thinks they’re too ‘damaged’ to talk to.

 

“Why?” Harry asks, setting his fork down as he scoots in closer to Ginny.

 

The redhead suddenly turns pink under his attention, and he grimaced at the way she begins to smile and twirl her hair. “Haven’t you heard? He’s been acting crazy. All of his friends are saying it’s like he doesn’t care anymore.” 

 

Harry just keeps a confused look on his face, and she gets that he wants her to go more in depth. “I mean, he’s been saying hello to the Hufflepuffs. A Malfoy, saying hello to people who aren’t pureblood. It’s insane.”

 

Ron nods, and Harry moves his attention to the older Weasley. “Yeah, the other day, I saw him and that Parkinson girl helping a first year who was lost. How crazy is that?” He laughs as he shakes his head.

 

Seamus joins in. “Don’t make noise, but the other day me and Dean saw him snogging Theodore Knott.”

 

The group did make noise, but it was only a small gasp. “He has gone crazy.” Hermione sunk back into her seat, picking at her mashed potatoes.

 

Harry’s heart began to speed up.  _Malfoy’s kissing boys_? He should’ve been repulsed at the thought of him kissing anybody, because who would want to kiss that piece of garbage? Instead, he feels a twinge if jealousy in his gut. He shakes his head and takes a chug of his gilly water. He must’ve eaten something funny to be having thoughts like that.

 

“Oh Merlin, look what he’s done now!” Dean’s looking at the doors to the Great Hall now, pointing.

 

Harry follows his fingers and nearly has a heart attack when he sees who’s standing there. It’s Malfoy, although if you had only heard stories about him you would’ve never guessed. His signature blonde hair is gone, replaced with dyed blue. The color reminds Harry if the sky and he wonders why it makes Malfoy’s hair look so soft and why he suddenly wants to run his hands through it.

 

“You know, it doesn’t look half bad.” Seamus says, earning him a slap on the shoulder from Dean.

 

Harry doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Instead he just steals glances at Malfoy from across the room and thinks,  _Yeah. It doesn’t look half bad._  

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Three_

 

He’s sitting with Hermione in the library. Ron’s off with Lee Jordan somewhere, obsessing over Quidditch players no doubt. Hermione’s trying to help him understand one of Shakespeare’s plays, but he’s completely lost. He can’t tell the difference between a dick joke and a meaningful quote and it’s pretty obvious that Hermione’s getting tired.

 

“You know what? How about we find another play,” She flips through the large book, the dust that flies off the pages showing Harry that this book can’t be that popular, “Ah-ha!” She exclaims, “ _The Merry Wives of Windsor_. You’ll love it.”

 

She begins to babble on about a random fact having something to do with socks*, but Harry’s attention is elsewhere now. He’s become acutely aware that recently he’s been spending most of his time, for lack of better word, stalking,Malfoy. He’ll be sitting in Potions when all of a sudden his gaze will creep over to a blue-haired Slytherin a few rows over, watching as he scrawls down the notes, making jokes to the person next to him. 

 

He’ll be eating breakfast when he just - _stops_ \- paying attention to the conversation, instead watching as a certain Slytherin’s face lights up when he laughs. Or, like today, he’ll be in the library with Hermione, bored out of his mind, when he notices Malfoy walk in and greet the librarian. 

 

“Harry , are you even paying attention?” Hermione asks, snapping Harry’s attention back to her.

 

He jumps and tears his eyes away, back to the girl sitting next to him. “What?” He asks.

 

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Harry, if you don’t want to learn about Shakespeare just tell me. I’m sure Ginny would be happy to take your place.”

 

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but his thought dies at his tongue when he feels another presence join them. He looks up, and sucks in a breath when he sees a familiar grey-eyed boy standing next to Hermione.

 

“Hi,” He’s looking at Hermione, ignoring Harry. Harry isn’t proud of the jealousy he feels. “Sorry, but could I sit here?” He asks, and Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever heard Malfoy speak so politely.

 

Hermione looks shocked for a moment but she nods nonetheless. “Yes, of course.” She says.

 

Malfoy smiles (which does not make Harry’s knees turn to jelly) before he put the chair and sits. “Look, I know I’ve been a huge jerk for basically my entire life, and I was a total dick to you,” Hermione purses her lips and Harry chuckles softly, “But, I guess I’d just like to apologise. You and your friends didn’t deserve half the shit I put you through. And I’m really sorry for that.”

 

Hermione’s look softens, and the threatening glare in her eyes disappears. “Well...you’re forgiven. The war changed us, all of us, and I think you deserve a second chance.”

 

Malfoy sighs in relief. “Thank you so much,” He says, and Harry notices that Malfoy still hasn’t acknowledged his presence.

 

Hermione just smiles. “Since your here, would you like to decipher Shakespeare with me and Harry?”

 

Malfoy shakes his head, “I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, I’m no good.”

 

Hermione laughs. “Nonsense! You’ve got to be better than Harry.”

 

Malfoy laughs and Harry lets out an accusatory “ _Hey_!” before they turn back to the book. As it turns out, Malfoy is way better at figuring Shakespeare out than Harry, which really isn’t a surprise. He knows exactly what’s supposed to be a dick joke and what’s supposed to be a heartfelt metaphor about life and death. 

 

Harry doesn’t spend the rest of the time actually listening to Hermione’s reasoning, instead he fills the time thinking about how good Malfoy looks and just how much he has changed since the war. Before, he wouldn’t even be seen sitting with Hermione, and now here they were. 

 

At one point Malfoy does look over at Harry, catching the Gryffindor staring. Harry looks down but Malfoy just smiles. “I’m sorry for being mean to you, too, you know.” He says.

 

Harry just nods. “Yeah, same.”

 

Hermione makes eye contact with him, her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her lips. He gives her the ‘ _shut up_!’ face and she rolls her eyes before looking back down to the book. 

 

Much to Harry’s dismay, Malfoy seems to notice the interaction, and he throws a confused look Harry’s way. The other boy just shrugs and makes a mental note to get onto Hermione later.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Four_

 

 

He’s in divination with Ron, who is so good at the subject to the point where it’s annoying. They’re both practising reading tea leaves, when Ron’s fingers snap and he straightens up.

 

“I’ve got it!” He exclaims, leaning in over the table.

 

Harry’s eyebrows go up. It’s not unlikely for Ron to actually be able to predict something, but tea leaves have never been his strong suit. “Yeah?” He asks.

 

Ron nods enthusiastically. “Yeah,” He starts, wiping his hands on his robes, “You wanna hear it?”

 

Harry shrugs. Hearing prophecies about yourself can be weird, but he knows if he says no Ron will tell him anyway. “Sure,” He says, resting his head in his hands.

 

“Okay; a light’s going to come into your life. Like - a loving light? I think. I know it’s not a lamp. It’s a person. Somebody you like. They’re going to...” Ron trails off, and Harry gets the point.

 

“Well, finally,” He laughs, “I can only go so long watching you and Hermione being lovey-dovey before I start to feel lonely.”

 

Harry’s making jokes, but inside he’s wondering if this ‘light’ could be the person that’s stealing most of his thoughts. Now he’s thinking about Malfoy and he can’t help but to shift his gaze to the boy.

 

He’s arguing with a fellow Slytherin, intensely chewing the poor girl out. Harry tried to ignore it and block him out, but Draco’s face is red and his hair is mussed and Harry can’t help but to listen in.

 

“We’re wizards! We’re fucking magical and yet you are still the least progressive person I’ve met!” He yells.

 

The girl rolls her eyes. “Exactly, were wizards. We’re superior. Just like white people are superior.” She says.

 

Harry’s breath catches. Ron seems to be listening in too now. He’s raging, Harry can tell. And who can blame him? His girlfriend’s half black and he’s sitting here listening to somebody list of their dumb racist opinions.

 

“We are not superior, and neither are white people! Everybody’s made equal, you’d  think a Bible Thumper like you would know this!” Malfoy sneers at her.

 

Harry’s shocked. Pre-War Malfoy would’ve  probably been on the same side as the girl, not against her. Things are starting to get more heated, the girl has her friends at her side, and Malfoy has nobody. The group of girls are shoving him around, and Malfoy’s apparently got too much manner to push back. 

 

A guy, presumably the main girl’s boyfriend steps up. He looks ready to punch Draco, as if a spell wouldn’t do the job. Harry’s on the edge of his seat now, wand in hand. He’s not about to let Malfoy get beat up by some racist piece of crap.

 

The guy squares up, and Harry’s gripping his wand tighter. He’s about to intervene when Trelawny steps up. She steps in between the two boys, and Harry can hear her giving the guy detention. His smirk matches the similar pridefully one on Malfoy’s face as he sits back down. 

 

His eyes linger longer than they need to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Five_

 

 

It’s after dinner on a Friday night. Hagrid had asked for help cleaning up a clearing in the woods so he could teach a class, and the Golden Trio has nothing better to do. They’re walking down to Hagrid’s hut, it’s dark outside and he can still tell Hermione and Ron are throwing glances at each other from the corner of their eyes. Harry sighs. This so-called ‘light’ Ron was talking about better come soon. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to put up with this.

 

They’re probably twenty feet away from the hut when Harry notices Hagrid standing outside. He’s about to call out to him, but a figure standing next to the large man stops him. Harry’s slightly ashamed he can recognise who it is even in the dark, but Hermione’s words keep him from focusing on it.

 

“Is that Draco?” She asks, and Harry wonders when she got on a first name basis with him.

 

“I think it is. What the hell’s he doing out here?” Ron says, his brows knit together.

 

They walk a little bit faster to get there now, itching for answers as to why Malfoy’s out here at all, let alone this late.

 

When they get into earshot, Harry makes out what Malfoy’s saying. “I’m sorry, Hagrid. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. You’re the nicest teacher here, and all I did was make fun of you. And I was rude to your animals, we both know how that ended.”

 

Hagrid chuckles, but it sounds a little watery. Harry wonders how long Malfoy’s been out here. How long it took to make Hagrid cry.

 

“Thank you, Draco. I know things weren’t exactly the easiest on you either.”

 

Malfoy shakes his head. “That didn’t warrant my behaviour.”

 

Harry coughs, making the groups present known. Malfoy’s eyes shoot up. He looks a little scared, but visibly relaxed when he sees who it is. 

 

“Hermione, Ron,” He turns to look at Harry, a small smile that Harry really appreciates on his lips, “Potter.”

 

Harry winces at the name. Why can’t he be Harry? True, he hasn’t exactly spoken to Malfoy. He’s been...admiring him from afar. God, he sounds like a school girl.

 

“Harry,” He corrects, “Its Harry.”

 

Malfoy’s smile grows. “Well then, I guess I’m Draco.”

 

Harry smiles to then, and he ignores Ron elbowing him in the side. “So,” He starts, “Need help with that?” He gestures to the animal dung Draco had been cleaning up.

 

Draco smiles wider, and Harry likes to think it’s because of him. “Sure.”

 

And so he spends his night cleaning up animal crap with Draco. They make bad jokes and Hermione is definitely smirking a lot more than usual. He tries to keep things subtle, maybe a brush of knuckles every now and then, but the touching doesn’t go unnoticed by Draco.

 

At first, Draco just looks at him, a little confused. But Harry knows his face is red and he wonders if that’s why Malfoy starts to place his hand on Harry’s lower back far more than necessary (not that he’s complaining). He wonders if that’s why when they’re walking back to the castle Draco asks to sit with him sit lunch the next day.

 

Harry’s not dumb, he says he’s without hesitation. And if that night Ron is teasing him relentlessly, well, he’d say it’s worth it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_\+ One_

 

 

It’s a week later at dinner. Draco’s sitting at the Slytherin table, which had become a rare occurrence lately. Usually, he’s crammed next to Harry with the rest of the Eighth Year Gryffindors as they complain about how much harder the teachers are on them than when they were in their actual seventh year.

 

Harry’s sitting next to Ginny, who’s far to close for his liking. She’s twirling her hair between her finger and her thumb, nodding along to everything he’s saying. It makes him sick. Ron seems to notice his younger sister’s ‘little crush’, and he fails to keep back laughter.

 

“What?” Ginny turns her head to snap at him, like she’s mad that he interrupted her one sided flirting.

 

“Gin, I hate to break it to you, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.” He says, earning a snort from Hermione.

 

Both Harry and Ginny turn a shade that matches the girls hair. “Ron!” Ginny exclaims, “Can’t you just let me and Harry flirt in peace,” She turns back to Harry, a smirk on her lips. It’s not nearly as attractive as when Draco does it.

 

Harry tried to ignore Ginny’s head resting in his shoulder, but it just feels so incredibly wrong that it’s all he can think about. Well - except for the fact that Draco keeps looking at him with an expression somewhere between envy and anger.

 

It makes Harry’s stomach turn and he decides he does not want to see that look on Draco again. He figures Ginny is the one causing it, but he isn’t quite sure why. He looks back up at Draco, and they hold eye contact for a few moments before the Slytherin huffs and turns back to his food.

 

Ginny’s saying something, he isn’t quite sure what, but then she’s lifting her head off of his shoulder and is suddenly very very close to Harry’s face. Her breath smells sweet, but not good. It’s like she ate too many pasties and forgot to brush her teeth before coming to dinner. It’s too...feminine for Harry’s liking. 

 

Then she’s moving her hand to his face and leaning in even more and Harry’s too shocked to move. He sits there, wide-eyed as Ginny presses her mouth to his. And that’s all it is, pressure; but it still feels so completely wrong.

 

She’s too warm and it’s gross and he wants to pull back but he’s frozen. Her hand is clammy and her hair smells like bitter strawberries and he wants it to stop. Ron’s about to say something, hopefully something to get Ginny off of him. 

 

But then there’s a cool hand on his shoulder and it feels so good compared to Ginny’s heated skin. Suddenly he’s being pulled up, and he doesn’t even feel slightly guilty when he sees Ginny’s disappointed face. He turns his eyes and sees familiar blue hair and it’s so much better than red. There’s a gasp from the table as Draco pulls him in by the collar, slamming there lips together.

 

And Draco tastes like mint and his mouth is cool and calm and he forgets all about Ginny. His shoulders relax immediately and he’s kissing Draco back without even realizing it. He can faintly hear cheering but his head is reeling and he feels like he might pass out.

 

Draco’s a really good kisser and he’s holding Harry’s face and his hand isn’t sweaty like Ginny’s and it’s nice. All of a sudden it’s like a cool wave washes over him and he gasps because  _oh my god he’s kissing Draco Malfoy._

 

He’s kissing Draco Malfoy and he likes it because it feels like he’s been waiting so  _so_ long when in reality it’s only been a few weeks. And then Draco’s pulling away, his eyes wild and a grin on his face that makes Harry melt. Ron is behind him, patting him on the shoulder, Hermione giving him a thumbs up from the spot on the table. He doesn’t bother looking at Ginny, instead he pulls Draco in for another kiss.

 

He can tell Draco’s shocked but he doesn’t care. He pulls away again and Draco mutters something that Harry can’t quite make out. Then Draco’s dragging him out of the Great Hall and the cheering from before grows as the door closes behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> * The Merry Wives of Windsor is the only Shakespeare play that mentions socks


End file.
